By David Booth, National Post

Originally published: February 14, 2011

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MEDIUM

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It may seem counter-intuitive, but the hardest job in automotive design is replacing a successful model. Penning a more attractive SUV than the unappealing Aztek, for instance, is a doddle — most Grade One students’ crayon doodlings are considerably more stylish than the frightful Pontiac, so virtually anything is going to be an improvement. Mercedes’ recent redesign of its popular CLS, on the other hand, required a much more cautious design brief.

Sold primarily because of its already iconic swooping roofline, too radical a redesign would have alienated current fans, while too little change might turn off future prospective clients. In the end, Mercedes chose (probably wisely) to go with the cautious approach; you can notice the changes, but the same, much-loved shape is all but intact.

I heartily recommend that Land Rover take the same approach when it comes time to redesign its range-topping Range Rover. Only, in this case, I don’t think the styling it needs to replicate is the exterior (even though that, too, is plenty enticing) but the interior, particularly the dashboard.

Simply put, the Range Rover’s interior is the most attractive in the business. The then-Ford-owned English marque originally told us the entire affair was inspired by the classic wooden motor boats of the early 20th century and, even if that’s a load of hooey (as are most of the verbal meanderings of artistic types trying to justify their work), I lauded the effort as the best not just in the SUV segment but in all of automotivedom when the car was launched in 2002.

I see no reason to change my opinion almost a decade later, the Range Rover still being the epitome of luxury and style that should typify any upper-crust automobile. Central to the effect is the unique dashboard where some of the wood treatment appears to disappear behind the dashboard controls only to reappear later. Again, I’m told this has an aquatic influence; I only know I find it attractive, especially in the versions that marry a light ash trim with a cream-coloured leather base. Every time I climb into the cabin, I can’t help but think I’ve “made it” if only, of course, I could actually afford a Range Rover.

The interior is also fairly functional. The Terrain Response system, for instance, has married the myriad controls needed to set up a four-wheel-drive system into one rotary knob. If you can recognize grass from gravel (and, one presumes, spell them as well, since the system’s readout does require basic reading ability), you can optimize your Range Rover for any terrain. There’s also a way nifty TFT screen that replaces the normal analogue speedometer/tachometer gauge set. It’s far more attractive and offers few additions such as a digital readout of certain parts of the manual.

Said interior, however, is not perfect; considering it’s almost 10 years old, it’s little wonder. Nonetheless, as attractive as the TFT gauges are, Land Rover hasn’t extracted as much utility out of the computerization of its gauge set as, say, Jaguar’s XJ, which uses a variation on the same theme. Additionally, the dash’s radio/navigation controllers and LCD screen are a little idiosyncratic and not always the most easily deciphered. Again, sister company Jaguar does a better job with this, so perhaps Land Rover’s designers should just head over to Jaguar’s water cooler for some pointers. Overall then, my recommendation when a redesign inevitably becomes necessary is simply for Land Rover to improve some of the actual technology, but please, please, please don’t change the interior styling.

The designers will have to work a little on the cabin’s practicalities, though. The Range Rover is a huge vehicle, stretching some 4,972 millimetres from stem to stern and weighing in at a hefty 2,678 kilograms. And, while I would hesitate to call it small in any regard, there’s no doubt modern chassis techniques would find even more room for the same-sized vehicle. As well, as we Boomers age, Land Rover will have to find some solution to the Range Rover’s high step-in height; we, the soon to be infirm, will begin finding ingress/egress a little too much like a jump squat.

Of course, that same height is responsible for the Range Rover’s incredible duality: It is one of the most luxurious vehicles yet also capable of going places that only Humvees dare to tread. I did not test the Range Rover’s off-road ability this time, but I’ve done so on enough occasions to know that if you need deeper woods ability than the big sport-brute offers then perhaps you’re better off shopping a trails type motorcycle.

The long-travel suspension so crucial to off-road prowess also makes the big boat wonderfully compliant on our moonscaped roads. Big-buck sedans such as the S550 and the 7 Series wish they coddled their occupants in such comfort.

Nor does the Range Rover handle badly. Once you learn to accommodate all that weight — i.e., don’t throw it into a corner like a Mazda Miata — the steering and handling are far better than three tons of automobile has any right to be. Roll is well mitigated and there are numerous more sporty vehicles with less sensitive steering than the big Range Rover’s.

Perhaps, most incredibly, the supercharged 5.0-litre V8 manages to motivate the Range Rover’s avoirdupois with the élan of a sporty coupe. Thanks to its 510 horsepower and 461 pound-feet of torque, the huge beast scoots to 100 klicks in barely more than five seconds. On the road, there’s always a surfeit of power, passing slower-moving cars always but an eye blink away.

Of course, the penalty exacted is the 15-litres-per-100-kilometres overall fuel economy for which Transport Canada rates the supercharged version. In real-world usage, it’s actually worse. But, then, if you can afford the $112,800 asking price, fuel consumption is not at the top of your worries. You’ll be more concerned with opulence. And, as I hope I’ve made clear, the Range Rover delivers that in spades.